Bundle
by rednwhite
Summary: A little story thats been running around my head, so time to let it out for a bit of a run.
1. Chapter 1

Usual disclaimers apply.

**Bundle!**

Anywhere else the lightning would have been called 'unusual'. Here in Smallville the red tinged tongues of fire were almost common place. It lanced across the black sky throwing eerie shadows among the woods and cornfields, never touching the ground, performing a continual dance before, at last, the laces of super-heated plasma began to coalesce over a remote field miles from any populated areas.

The crash of thunder that accompanied the earthing of the crimson lightning would have deafened anyone close enough to have witnessed it. Almost as soon as it had started it finished, clouds began to swiftly disappear, leaving stars winking knowingly at the scene below.

Small fires had broken out on the ground, quickly extinguishing themselves as they consumed the small amounts of combustible fuel at ground level, the accompanying smoke began to thin, wisps drifting away on the breeze revealing the naked male figure left curled in a foetal position at the heart of the disturbance, a figure that an observer would swear hadn't been there before the lightning strike.

Slowly, the figure began to unfold, still smoking, and pushed himself slowly to his hands and knees, before standing upright and stretching his entire body. An observer might compare the physique to that of a classical Greek statue, perfectly proportioned despite his height being in excess of 6' 8". He had well defined facial features, features that the native population of Smallville would find vaguely familiar.

He looked down at his feet. He noticed a dim green glow beneath the crushed grass where he had laid. He reached down, flicking aside the bruised blades and picked up the meteor rock, a smile playing upon his lips. He closed his hand around it, steadily applying more pressure until the piece of kryptonite slipped between his fingers, crushed into so many grains of sand.

He reached out his arms from his sides and slowly he rose, turning gently, surveying his immediate surroundings, trying to get his bearings. After a moment of orientation he appeared to make up his mind where he was, he dropped his arms close to his side, and disappeared in a blur, the air collapsing behind him creating a second enormous thunderclap that night.

Straight and true as an arrow, he headed towards the Kent Farm.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

The naked stranger dived through the window of the hay loft after circling the farm once to make sure he could be alone. He immediately went to the cabinet next to the couch, opened it and removed Clark's spare change of clothes that he kept when he slept in the loft. It was as if he knew exactly where to go.

He held the clothes in front of him studying them for a moment. Appraising the he said aloud to himself "Hmm! Snug, but tasteless. I should fit right in!"

He pulled the clothes on quickly. They were as he suspected a bit small. The shirt pulled across his shoulders and chest, and the denims more than a little tight across backside. He patted his buttocks in the stressed jeans. "The girls at home would sure like these!"

"Can I help you?" Clark Kent had come up the stairs to the loft. Having just left the Talon after having a fight with Lana, he had run home wanting some alone time so he made straight for his 'fortress of solitude'. Hearing some noise he had climbed the stairs as stealthily as he could to see a stranger stood in his clothes in front of him.

The man turned his head towards Clark, his back still towards him. "You know man, it sounded like a herd of elephants coming up those stairs." He grinned and turned to face Clark completely. "How ya doin' Clark?"

Clark stared at him for a moment. It was still dark but in the starlight Clark's vision was fine, and there was something familiar about his face. "Do I know you?" Clark moved to get closer, but the man dropped subtly back, keeping his distance, edging towards the window.

"What are you doing with my clothes?" Clark was determined to keep him talking, he thought he could easily grab him but he had no idea what this man was doing and he wanted to find out so he was going to try and glean as much as he could by engaging him in conversation.

"I could hardly walk around naked now could I?"

"Have you come far, do you want something to eat?" Clark asked trying to gain his confidence.

"You wouldn't believe how far. You really are a boy scout! She always said you were. Look, I'd love to shoot the breeze, but I have to fly!"

With that he lay back and shot, inverted, through the window and into the night sky, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

Clark's eyes widened. He walked to the window looking in vain for a trace of the stranger who had invaded his private retreat. This man moved quicker than he could and he flew. He was taller and looked easily as strong as Clark.

Clark sensed that there didn't seem any threat to him, a relief considering the abilities he had shown, but he needed to find out more.

Was this another Kryptonian or some sort of meteor freak? How did he know his name? Why did he look so familiar?

And who was 'She'?


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Lex stood in front of the fireplace admiring the Constable hung over it. It had been recently acquired in an internet auction for a cool eight million dollars. It was over priced, but he had more than a sneaking suspicion that his fellow bidder was his father. He was not going to lose that auction.

He smiled indulgently and reached up to it, tracing the lines of the horse-drawn cart with his fingers, not quite touching the paint in case the oils from his fingertips contaminated the fine artwork. It would only remain on display here for a couple more days before he would have it taken down and removed to his strong-room in Metropolis. It was his now, he had paid for and he was damned if anyone else was going to enjoy the fruits of his labours.

Oh, sure, one day in the future he might graciously allow one of the pre-eminent art galleries or museums to show it in a prestige display, but he would be sure that all who came to see it would know that it was Lex Luthor who was so generous as to allow them the pleasure, the little ray of cultured sunlight, into their sad, sorry, empty little lives.

He stood back, the smile lingering on his lips as he brushed imaginary dust off of his solid oak mantle piece, then brushing his hands together as if to clean them.

He walked to his desk, poured himself a brandy, and sat reclining in his sumptuous leather chair savouring the bouquet of his oak-aged cognac and looking a the masterpiece. His reverie was disturbed suddenly by the mansion alarms. Surprised, he jerked upright in his chair, spilling his drink down his shirt. He cursed under his breath, reached for the drawer, opened it and pulled out the pistol he kept there for this sort of occurrence.

He checked it was loaded, took off the safety and moved stealthily to the study door. He opened the door and stuck his head around the frame to look up and down the hallway. It was empty. The only evidence that there was any sort of activity was a door hanging at a precarious angle, still gently swinging further down the hall.

It was to his private room dedicated to the study of the enigma that was Clark Kent.

One of his security guards came stalking around the corner, holding his gun in front of him. "Mr Luthor! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine! I don't think I was a target." He nodded towards the damaged door and together they rounded it, holding their guns in front of them to be greeted by a scene of devastation. The entire contents of the room were reduced to fragments, pieces no bigger than a dollar bill.

Lex dropped his head, exhaling through gritted teeth, eyes closed. "Shut that damn alarm down and get me the security footage! Now!" he ordered angrily before spinning on his heel and turning back towards his study, slamming the useless door against the frame behind him, which still hung on for grim death.

He sat at his desk again, a freshly poured brandy twirling in his fingers as he studied the monitor in front him. He manipulated the controls expertly, slowing and freeze-framing without looking from the screen. Finally he sat back looking at a frozen image, happy that he could see all he needed.

The image was extremely blurred and indistinct, but what was obvious was the fact that whoever had invaded his property had a propensity for wearing red shirts and blue trousers.

Lex murmured to himself. "Clark? Is that you? Have you grown yourself a backbone?" he leant closer to the screen trying in vain to make out features. "Thing is, what are we going to do about your little intrusion?"

He slammed his glass down on his desk. In the hallway the door finally gave up the ghost, dropping almost apologetically from the hinges with a tired groan, coming to rest in the hallway.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Clark rested his backside against Chloe's desk in her dorm room. "I'm telling you Chloe, he knew my name and I've never seen him before. He took my spare set of clothes – he knew where I kept them."

"Was anything else missing?" Chloe sat on her bed, tapping away at her laptop on her knees.

"No. Well, I don't think so. I came straight over – I didn't check properly but everything looked like okay."

"Well Clark, no police reports of any plaid thieves in a three hundred mile radius."

"You know Chloe, you are getting to sound more and more like Lois every day!"

She beamed up at him "Thanks Clark. She's been giving me lessons!"

"Great. Just what I need. Another member of the Lane/Sullivan clan with the ability to make my life hell. Seriously though Chloe, what do you think about this intruder?"

"Can you give me a description and I'll check it out with the database at the Planet?"

"Well, he kind of looked like me, dark hair, blue eyes, about six-eight, same sort of build as me except maybe more muscular….."

Chloe stared wide-eyed at Clark who was concentrating on the ceiling while trying to remember his appearance.

"Actually Clark, forget the database. I think I'll go looking for him myself!"

"Chloe, he might be dangerous. He can fly remember! Who knows what else he's capable of and we've got no idea what his motives are." He began to pace the room, rubbing his hands together.

"Look Clark, it's late. Why don't you run home, get a good night's sleep. I'll do some investigating tomorrow and call you when I'm done. He didn't try and harm you so you're probably worrying about nothing, okay!" she guided him to her door by his elbow and opened it for him.

"And Clark?"

"Yes?"

"Next time you bump into him, see if you can get a picture eh?"

She winked at Clark, smiling as she closed the door behind him.

Clark felt a little bit easier at Chloe's sensible advice. He sped back to Smallville, checked the time and decided to look in at the Talon to see if his mother wanted some company on her journey home.

He did a quick sweep from outside making sure Lana wasn't there, and walked in. Straight into Lois who was just cleaning up carrying a tray full of empty mugs, china shattering on the floor.

"Smallville! Why don't you look where you're going?"

"I'm sorry Lois. I wasn't paying attention." Clark sounded flustered.

"That's just great, that's another half hour clearing up and I don't get overtime." Lois stared at the mess by her feet.

"Go get your coat, I'll clear this up. It's the least I can do."

"It sure is Smallville. I'll get the pans, we'll do it together. It'll get done quicker."

She went to get the pans from the shelf under the counter.

"Okay Lois. Is mom still here?"

"No. She left a half hour ago. Apple pie tonight farm-boy!" Lois returned, handed Clark his own pan and she and Clark began sweeping up the debris.

"Hey, Smallville?"

Clarks head looked up quickly from his diligent endeavours to atone for his clumsiness, and bumped his head straight into Lois'.

"What is wrong with you tonight? How is it you were ever coordinated enough to play football? No! Scratch that! How were you ever coordinated enough to walk?" she complained, rubbing the rising lump on her forehead.

Clark, looking sheepish apologised again. "I am so sorry Lois. Are you alright? Look, get your coat and I'll finish up here then I'll drive your car home."

"Oh, no you won't. I'll drive back. On your current form you'll end up running us into a tree and killing us both. I'll get my keys." She got up still nursing her head.

Clark finished up as Lois went around the back to collect her things. She came out as Clark was putting away the dust-pans. She looked at the spotless patch were moments previously there had been apocalyptic pile of porcelain.

"Wow. Quick work Clark."

"Yeah, I, er, can't wait for that apple pie."

"Come on then Smallville, let's get you get you back home to mommy."

Lois pulled on her coat, set the alarm and locked the door behind them. They walked around to the alley, climbed in the car and drove off.

As the car rounded the corner onto the street, a large figure stepped out of the shadows smiling to himself. He disappeared in a blur after them.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

He stood in the darkness of the barn having taken to the air on the way back to the farm. He watched the two of them park the car, get out and walk to the front door, bickering in their good-natured, familiar fashion. He thought wistfully about knocking on the door and joining them in so familiar surroundings, but hung his head knowing that could not happen.

"You didn't achieve anything you know."

He didn't turn to face the apparition that had materialised behind him. He knew who it was and he wasn't surprised by his appearance.

"Maybe not. But I had to try." His gaze was fixed on the warm glow coming from the kitchen window.

"He'll be even more intrigued now. You've just added fuel to the fire of his passion. His quest for knowledge will be driven even harder – it may even hasten your fathers' demise."

"Then maybe I shall have to stop him permanently." He said it quietly, but the underlying threat in his voice resonated through the barn.

"You're still your fathers' son. Should he hear you talk like that, what would he say?"

"He's gone. What does it matter?" the cold reply came.

"You and I both know better that that John. Life is sacred, especially human life – he taught you that and I know you respect his beliefs."

John dropped his head and sighed. "Yes I do. He was his best friend you know?"

"I know John. Things change though. People change."

John sank to his haunches and ran his hands through his hair. "What changed here?"

"It doesn't matter what changed here. You can't stop what happened then by changing what happened now."

For the first time John looked at the apparition in the dark green cloak. "You know that don't you." It was a statement, not a question.

The shadowy figure seemed to waver for a moment. "I've had my experiences. I know my limitations and the limitations of time travel. Come now it's time for you to return with me. Back to your own time."

John looked back to the farm house. "Not yet Watcher. Not yet."

There seemed to be sympathy in the attitude of the cloaked figure.

"You know you cannot interfere anymore than you already have. This time tomorrow I shall return. You shall return with me. You will not cause any more trouble for me, is that clear?"

John turned to the fading shape. "I'll do what I can Watcher. I'm sorry for any trouble I may have caused."

"Tomorrow John. Same time tomorrow."

The shape faded. It was almost reluctant to disappear, taking longer than usual, but finally it vanished, leaving john on his own.

John watched the image fade. He smiled to himself. He had twenty four hours granted to him and he intended making the best of it.

He would leave his own legacy. He knew he couldn't do anything now but he had an idea that may take time to reach fruition, but should it work then he would see his father again.

Confidently, he strode toward the Kent Farm kitchen door and knocked on it.

The door opened a crack, Martha Kent peering out of the gap. "Hi! Can I help you?"

"Hi Mrs Kent! Can I come in please?"

"I don't even know who you are. What do you want?"

"I need to see Clark and Lois. It's important!"

"Who shall I say is here?"

"My friends call me John."

Martha felt inexplicably at ease with the stranger at the door. She opened the door slightly more. "And how should I introduce you John?"

He looked her in the eye. "Tell them my name is Jonathan. Jonathan Kent."


End file.
